I’m Not Going To Tell You How To Live Your Life, But I Will Tell You How To Make It Better.

Because I am extremely qualified to do so. Just look at my life, it’s marvelous!

And like most of my advice posts, this one is going to be heavily decorated in snacks. Because I don’t care what they say about emotional eating, it works, it helps, and it’s wonderful.

Calories you eat when you’re upset don’t count. Ask all the scientists I’ve paid off, they are forced to agree with me.

While my mother says the best way to relieve stress is to exercise, I beg to differ.  I think the best way to relieve stress is to take off your pants, get a nice, big bowl of something society would consider gluttonous, and go to town. I mean really, go to town on that bitch.

I don’t want you to think my life is great. I know that my perfectly filtered instagram photos and cleverly crafted tweets make it seem like I have it all together. In reality, I’m just waiting to go home, take my pants off, and dive nose deep into a jar of crunchy peanut butter using a reeses cup as a spoon.

Because no one really likes working. If you do, you’re lying. And if you’re not lying, you’re still in college. And if you’re still in college, you’re oblivious to the reality of obtaining your “dream job.”

And now, I present to you my list of snacks for all sorts of shitty occasions:


frozen bananas smothered in peanut butter and chocolate

Fighting With Your Best Friend/Frenemy: There’s no way to evade getting into stupid fights with your friends. If it’s one of those really bad fights where you’re like, totally done with that betch, you’re going to want to serve yourself a big heaping plate of bananas smothered in peanut butter and chocolate sauce.  If you’re like every other female on the planet, you’ll spend your night spitefully wishing your ex-bestie is locked in her room wearing men’s sweats stuffing her face with Pringles and Pop-Tarts. But you’re going to come out on top, because while you’re not immune to eating your feelings, you’re going to make sure you don’t look like you got pregnant with Ben and Jerry’s baby over the weekend. It’s okay, because it’s fruit.


Break-Ups: You thought he was the one. But tragedy struck and now you’re left alone. What better way what to channel the horrors of a break up than by going shot for shot with the bartender man on East Ave. The night will parallel your relationship to the point where you’ll actually be happy you’re single. For instance, it will totally start out awkward, but after a few shots you’ll feel great and become more and more comfortable with each other.  Inevitably it will end in some bad decisions, and you’ll wake up in the morning swearing you never want to do it again so you can avoid feeling like this. You’ll learn some valuable lessons though, like never drink tequila ever in life and bartenders don’t make good boyfriends.


apple sandwiches with chocolate chips, peanut butter, and caramel sauce

Going Back to School: Nothing says “I’m finding myself” like abruptly quitting your job and going back to school.  In the event that you may be entering this stage of life, there’s no better snack to help suppress those feelings of inadequacy than a good old fashioned sandwich. Relive your childhood memories wondering what you’ll be when you grow up and immediately come back down to earth when you hurt your jaw by chewing on a frozen chocolate chip. Life should be easy at this point, but it’s still pretty messy and that’s where the caramel comes in. Don’t forget a napkin, you’ll need it to clean up all those broken dreams littering your floor.

birthday cake oreos

birthday cake oreos

Getting Older: Every year there is one day in particular that forces you to remember you’re not as young as you once were. Whether it be a bad hip at twenty-five or your shocking inability to figure out simple social cues when you turn thirty, you’ll feel just fine when you plow through a sleeve of birthday cake flavored oreos. Because now that you’re getting older, people are going to expect you to start sagging in places that didn’t sag when you were eighteen, may as well give them something to work with. Am I right?



Quitting Your Job/Getting Fired: There’s not really a drink that says “I’m moving on with dignity” quite like Sangria. Whether you were involuntarily terminated from your job, or you chose to leave, pour yourself a big ol’ glass of wine with fruit inside and toast to some new beginnings. The wine will represent you, just totally getting better with age, but still trying to meander your way through those sour, fermented fruit chunks we call our inability to focus on the task at hand, clouding our vision of the future.


smores with reeses peanut butter cups

Negative Bank Account Balance: All the times your mom begged you to save your allowance rather than spend it on the latest version of Dream Phone are all coming back to slap you in the face because you literally have no money. Without your parents’ support to pull you out of that financial black hole, take some time to indulge in a nice s’more. Because just like money, you’ll always want more, you’re just not really sure if you want to take the time, effort, and gather the supplies necessary to achieve your results. I mean credit card debt is totally in, right?

SIDE NOTE: Yes, these are, in fact, all things that I’ve eaten at one point or another because I suck at life a lot.


Are you an emotional eater? What do you eat when you’re having a bad day?

GUEST POST: Racing Bananas Takes Over Half and Half!

Well, we are in for a special treat!  No pun intended, but kind of intended because I love snacks and she does too and that’s why I asked her to do this for me.

I like to eat, and figured everyone else does too, or else we’d all be dead, and then no one would be able to read my blogs (THE HORROR!) and my spanish teacher from tenth grade would be right in her assumption that I am not good at anything.

Anyways, enough about Senora Biatch, and more about food.  Hopefully you enjoy a little break from my nonsensical rambles, and enjoy something a little healthier for your mind and body.

Hi All! My name is Kim and I blog over at Racing Bananas, where I talk about my journey to live a healthy and active lifestyle. I stumbled upon Meg’s blog about a month ago and love it! Her posts are hilarious and witty and definitely keep me coming back wanting more! Today, Meg is letting me hijack her blog today to share with you some of my favorite go to snacks.

Kim Apple

My healthy living journey began during the Summer 2011 – I had reached my highest weight and was battling depression and self-image issues. With my dad and brother, I decided to change my eating habits and began exercising. I started doing the Atkins Diet, but soon realized that it was not sustainable for me. So paired with going to the gym and eating more healthy and in moderation, I have lost and maintained a 40 pounds over three years. It’s something that I am extremely proud of and strive to maintain. This can be pretty difficult, because I love chocolate. And ice cream. And pizza and cheeseburgers and French fries, and…well basically if it’s not good for you, I want it in my belly!

One way that I’m able to curb my “eat all the things!” mindset is by planning ahead. I’m a big snacker and need to eat every couple of hours (or I get hangry and scare my co-workers), so I usually make sure I stock the fridge and pantry with lots of healthy options that I can grab and eat during the day.

Some of my favorite combinations are:

Plain Greek Yogurt w/roasted pumpkin seeds or granola. I used to be a flavored Greek yogurt junkie until I saw how much sugar was in a container (as much as in a candy bar! Given the choice, I’ll take my sugar in chocolate form). It took a bit of getting used to, but I now really enjoy plain Greek yogurt and like to add in toasted pumpkin seeds or granola for a morning snack.


Red Peppers and Hummus. I’m not the biggest proponent of eating raw veggies, mostly because I think they’re bland. Except for red peppers, which I love because they are tangy and red. They taste great with hummus too!

Tuna Salad in a lettuce wrap or whole wheat pita. I only recently decided I liked tuna, and now I make my own tuna salad at home by mixing canned tuna with laughing cow wedges. It’s tasty! I wrap this in a leaf of romaine lettuce and love to chow down.

tuna salad

Rice Cakes with peanut butter. I know rice cakes have a bad rap – they are literally the most boring food around. But I started slathering them with a tablespoon of peanut butter (and sometimes cinnamon and a cut up banana) and they are quite tasty. And filling!

Mashed Avocado on Toast. I love avocado everything. My go to is to half an avocado and mash it in a bowl and season with paprika and garlic powder and then put on toast. Try it. You’ll love it!

Smoothie. If I have smoothies, it’s usually in the morning because I work in an office and think my co-workers would think I was nuts if I started blending things in the middle of the day. But smoothies are a great post-work out (or anytime) snack that you can fill with fruits, protein, and fiber!


With a bit of planning, you can have tasty snacks all day and not having to default to sugar filled granola bars (which I love #guiltypleasure) but couldn’t fill me up if they tried!

Thanks again to Meg for letting me take over today! Now I want to hear from you! What is your favorite go-to snack?





Hot dogs are like real dogs, they’re man’s best friend.  Or they’re like your favorite uncle that comes into town and everyone wants to hang out because it’s a special treat.  He’s part of the food family, but not immediate like chicken or ham.

He’s the mystery meat.  No one really knows how he’s related to you, but you’re so intrigued you’ll stand there with an empty beer and talk to him about absolutely nothing for an hour.

In honor of National Hot Dog Day, here’s a list of why the dog is better than the burg, and why you should drop everything right now and google map the crap out of the nearest stand:

  • There’s an obvious sexual innuendo, which is always fun, gratifying, and awkward at family gatherings with small children
  • They fit perfectly into one hand, leaving your other hand free for a choco taco or a beverage of your choosing
  • You don’t need two, but you can have more than one without being considered overindulgent
  • Uni-buns.  No top and bottoms for this guy
  • They’re mysterious, you never really know what’s in them, and you don’t want to, because then you’d never come back for more
  • They’re seasonal, yet always an option
  • They’re versatile: grill, steam, boil, or microwave
  • Great for sporting events
  • You don’t need garnish
  • Particularly great when paired with other foods like mac and cheese
  • Frank is both a strong boy’s name and a food group
  • An alternative to the traditional BBQ food
  • But not too much like the veggie burger
  • No one ever said, “Hey, you should stop eating those hot dogs”
  • Variations appear in all meals: sausages and street meat
  • Great for both lunch and dinner
  • Man’s best friend
  • Chilli dogs win wars and cure cancer
  • Condiments are a statement AND an accessory AND a reflection on your personality
  • Easy to walk and eat at the same time
  • You won’t look dumb at a sporting event
  • It’s big enough for a meal and small enough for a snack
  • You don’t have to limit yourself to one part of the animal because you never really know where it comes from
  • If you’re dangerous, go without the bun
  • Good for kids and adults alike
  • You’re never too old to eat a hot dog
  • Everyone loves dick jokes

Frankly, if you don’t enjoy a frank on a hot day, I don’t want to know you as a person.

Happy National Hot Dog Day!

Thanks to Katie (@katiebresnahan) for helping me compile this delicious list and for also seeking out and doing a dog chow down on my lunch break.

What do you think is the best thing about hot dogs?

Proud Member of The Clean Plate Club

The first thing I do when I know I’m going out to eat is look up the menu online.

The second thing I do is show up with a predetermined idea of what I want to eat, see the menu in front of me and immediately act like I’ve never seen any of the entrees before.

I have this thing where I feel like I need to eat all of the things on the menu for fear of missing out on something delicious.  I want four different appetizers before my main meal.

Against my company’s wishes, they eventually oblige my need to fulfill all my cravings, and order an array of teaser treats and divine dishes that I will never, under any circumstances be able to finish.

Or maybe I just hated what I got.

After the meal, we box the unfinished dishes up.  We take the leftovers home.

Much like going out to dinner, life’s expectations never match reality.  Sometimes experiences aren’t what you expect.  Things don’t always go according to plan.

At the end of the day, you never really put everything out on the table.  As human beings, we like to keep things, harbor them, pack them away.  We never want to purge our lives of things that are meaningful.

We keep the leftovers of relationships, fights, and adventures.  We harbor them.  We might need them later on.

So we take them with us, put them away, and save them for later.  For better or for worse.

Leftovers come in many different forms.

On the one hand, there are the ones that stay good for a long period of time.  These are the good times, the memories you want to keep, the ones when you open up that box and remember how juicy that steak was, and how it was perfectly paired with those mashed potatoes.

Kind of like how you felt when you put on a dress after losing all that weight, and getting to pair it with those heels you’ve been waiting to wear for months.

On the other hand, there are the meals you take back and they just aren’t good after a day.  You take it out, open it and immediately regret thinking you could handle this at a later time.

These are the mornings after a night of drinking and you reach for a water bottle, only to take a swig of straight vodka.  Thank you, college.  You can die now.

Sometimes you want to take it home just because you paid for it.  Like that impulse purchase at Marshall’s, again, that you’ll only really wear once, but you had to have it, even though it just ends up claiming space in your closet.

You take them home because you feel bad.  Like that sweater your grandmother gave you for Christmas or that guy who was really nice to you at the bar (but you’ll totally be a lady, of course).

Maybe it was part of a meal that you will never forget.  Like a fight with your mother where the words still linger in the coming years.

We all have leftovers.

Except for me.  I am part of the Clean Plate Club, suckers. #NoRegrets

ATTENTION: Pumpkins Are Using Jedi Mind Tricks On All Of Us

A pumpkin after my own heart.

A pumpkin after my own heart.

Summer is practically synonymous with sunscreen, ice cream, and barbecues.  I mean, I can already smell the bbq bacon cheeseburger coming fresh off the charcoal grill and it’s not because I am eating a cheeseburger at 10am.

Or it is, the jury is still out.

With each season, there is a specific scent we associate with it.  Normally I’m all for it, because scents mean that there is food somewhere in the vicinity, and that’s never a bad thing.

But I have a bone to pick with one particular scent/flavor/permeation that really just makes me angry, because it’s trying to be the favorite, and I learned in kindergarten that being the teacher’s pet meant getting special treatment, and then everyone hates you.

I’m about to drop some high voltage knowledge bombs about this goddamn pumpkin spice obsession.

I’m not going to say I hate it, because hate is a word I reserve for push button faucets and people who talk in elevators.

I’m just not all up in pumpkin’s face asking it to hang out with me.  I don’t let it have a special season, because that’s how egos grow, and I need pumpkins to know their place in this world.

Frankly, I just think that pumpkins are jedi mind tricking us all into thinking we NEED them in our lives, creating demand during the fall solstice.  Whoever is marketing for the pumpkins of the world, reveal yourself!  I need you on my team, you could probably take this here blog to new heights and help me achieve my dream of being married to Danny McBride and Jimmy Fallon at the same time. 

Seasonal privileges are for treats that make you feel like you’re going to vomit if you so much as look at another piece.  Like candy corn. It’s a scientific law that candy corn has to get the hell out of your life by October’s end, because you start to see all foods in a tri-color hierarchy of white, yellow, and orange.

Let me make this perfectly clear, there are rules set in place that have been there for hundreds of years.  They were rules created by the bromagnons and the bromosapiens to protect our taste buds from over-indulgence.

In order to be a seasonal treat, you have to follow a strict criteria, which goes as follows:

1. It must be a treat that is solely used or consumed during a specific season.

ie. candy canes, candy corns, peeps, eggnog.

2. You must want to vomit after over-consumption of said treat.

Ever tried drinking Eggnog after December? It’s almost impossible. It’s at this time you may actually realize that it doesn’t even taste that good to begin with, and you’ll regret all of it.  Eggnog = regret. Remember that.

3. You can’t be a gourd.

Plain and simple, they are a decorative item in a cornucopia. You can’t have your own season if you’re part of a fucking cornucopia.

4. As  a seasonal treat, you have to have absolutely no value to the outside world after your said season is over.

You don’t see candy canes trying to make an appearance on Valentine’s day, or Peeps trying to squeeze their demonic candy crusted bodies into your summer pool party.  They know their place, they don’t want to be in the pool with you, they want to be there when you’re running around your house trying to find where your mom ninja-hid all the colored eggs.

There you have it. A tale as old as time, a song as old as rhyme.  Pumpkins, go back to your hole in the ground, ya gourdy betch.  You don’t deserve your own season; not on my watch.

Now let me go finish my breakfast cheeseburger.

Food Taught Me Everything I Ever Needed To Know About Life

You can learn a lot about a person by what they eat.  And no, I’m not saying you should stare at people while they’re eating, that’s rude.  Unless it’s a celebrity, then please report back because I NEED to know what Oprah eats for breakfast that makes her so powerful.



This may come as a shock – or it won’t because you’ll realize that my brain works in strange ways, and this is just one of those things that makes me unique – but food has taught me everything I ever needed to know about life.

Real talk.

Sidenote: Let me start off by saying that if you looked in my cabinet where I store all my food, you’d probably think I had a child.  But alas, those are my groceries, I just eat like I’m seven.  So this is one of those times where I will make judgments about others, completely ignoring the fact that I have been all of these people at one time or another.

For starters, if you’re sitting on your couch in dirty sweatpants using a ladle to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, I’m going to assume you’re going through a breakup. Or at the very least, a rough week.  When a spoon just isn’t big enough to satisfy your cravings for creamy delights to the point where you’re going to go straight for a ladle, among the Cherry Garcia remnants, you have heartbreak written all over your face.

And for you, I will pray.  Because no one can stop after one ladle scoop of B&Js.  It’s impossible.

When I see a twenty-something eating a steak with an older man or woman, it’s a safe bet that they are not paying for it.  You never eat the cheapest thing on the menu when your parents are footing the bill.  I’ll hit up Olive Garden and pay $9.99 for unlimited soup, salad, and breadsticks; but you best believe when I’m out with my parents I’m getting my fill of fine wine and filets.

If you can eat it in your pajamas, it’s not acceptable to feed a potential life partner.  Nothing says, “Hey baby, let’s get married!” like bagel bites with a side of Doritos.  You should learn to cook something substantial before you commit to someone for the rest of your life.

But when you’re drunk, it’s completely acceptable to throw all dietary restrictions and personal inhibitions out the window and go face deep into a pile of nachos and cinnastix.  A good rule of thumb is: if you don’t remember it, it never happened.

This is also a great indicator for how old someone is.  No one above thirty should be forgetting they ate forty-eight loaded tater tots and an entire Christmas ham the previous night due to alcohol.

I immediately know I need to tread lightly when I see someone eating a salad.  Especially men.  Woman have this extra chromosome where they can turn off their memories of delicious food and focus solely on bathing suit season.  It makes stomaching a salad almost mouth-watering.  Almost.

But the time a man voluntarily orders a cobb salad at a restaurant, don’t say anything mean to him within a five-foot-radius.  He is not choosing to eat that salad.  His doctor, his mother, or his girlfriend told him he needed to stop eating so many carbs and watch his cholesterol, and eating an entire head of iceberg lettuce is the only thing stopping him from shoveling a foot-long chicken parm sandwich down his throat.

When you’re around someone who is grumpy, they may need a snack.  That’s why I always like to keep a few granola bars in my purse.  You never know when a romantic stroll with your boyfriend will turn into the last moments of your life because you told him the restaurant was “like five minutes away” an hour ago.

Boys need to eat sixty-times more a day than women.  Granola bars save lives.

I also know you’re having a great time at your dinner date by the filter you’re using to instagram your food.  Anything less than a high contrast filter means your date sucks.  No one wants to see a poorly photographed, low resolution cheeseburger.  I want to see that thing oozing grease out of my phone.

If you don’t instagram a picture of your food, I assume you’ve either died, or are having a real, face-to-face conversation with the person who brought you out, and there may be hope for your love life after all.

 Also, if you like Taco Bell, KFC, and Pizza Hut, you may be my soul mate.  Inquire within. 


What’s Up With That Wednesday

I like to eat.

This was most evident when I came back from studying abroad in Dublin circa 2009.  My mother was waiting for me at the ‘Arrivals’ section of the airport, and after five months of separation, the first thing she said to me was, “Wow, you look different.”

And it wasn’t the good different.  It was the twenty pounds heavier complete with a fat face and borderline emerging cankles different.

Being overseas for five months really expanded my horizons with food.  My newly expanded waistline and bloated face were concrete evidence. But as much as I learned to love food and experiment, there were some things I could not wrap my head around.

Spicy food.  One time I went to get wings with my friend Shannon.  She tried some from the “extremely hot” column.  Next thing you know, I look over and she’s got sweat coming out of her ears. HER EARS.  I’ve never been in a situation where ear sweat is not only acceptable but you voluntarily eat something that causes it.

Seriously… What the hell is up with food so hot that it could burn off your face?

Ghost Peppers:

I tend to avoid ghosts at all costs.  Especially in my food.  I don’t want to eat something that is invisible until I bite into it and all the sudden my mouth is engulfed in an inferno that only milk can control.  I’m lactose intolerant, milk don’t work for me.

Jalapeno Vodka:

I accept this.  But I only accept it in a bloody mary.  Otherwise, let’s stick with Stoli Orange and club soda.  It’s citrus sophisticated.

Habanero Pepper:

Yeah. HabanerNO.  I want nothing to do with you.  It’s not personal, only it is.  It is personal.  I can’t be eating something for dinner that will make me cry.  I’m already a woman, I don’t need another reason to shed tears in public.

Suicide Chicken Wings:

I don’t think I ever want to be put in a situation where I would want to kill myself over a chicken wing.  It just seems wrong.  I like to enjoy my wings, maybe have some beer, watch pretend to watch sports but really be scouting all the hot men at the bar.  I don’t want a fatal chicken appendage to come between me and a good man hunt.

I’m sweating just thinking about all of these.  I’m gonna go put an icepack on my forehead and stand in a freezer.


Did I miss any?

Fool Me Once, Shame On You!

I’m going to say it; there’s a lot of trickery going on in the world right now.

I’ll be the first to say I’m not discrete.  I think wearing sunglasses allows me to stare at people without being noticed.  It does not.  Maybe when I turn thirty that will finally sink in.

Until then, please ignore my piercing stare through my slighting tinted lenses when you’re walking to work – I’m just harmlessly judging you. No cause for alarm.

I like to believe I have a keen eye when it comes to being able to determine what is real and what is fake.  I am also one point upgrade in my prescription from being deemed legally blind, so maybe having a keen eye doesn’t really factor into my picture at all.

I’m not going as far as saying I’m gullible, but I guess I’m just prone to deception.

It’s easy to fall victim to every day impostors.  But with a few double takes, a good google search, and a question everything personality, you can find out that things aren’t really what they seem.

Tinder (and every other dating app that is solely based on physical appearance):

Ever get matched up with a guy or girl and you’re hitting it off?  Witty banter all the time.  Can’t wait til he or she messages me back.  This is great! His picture is awesome, his name is Kale and he’s a vegan.  He’s got board shorts and a tuxedo tshirt on in every picture, looks like my type of man!  Is that a fedora?  Sign me up. When you finally agree to meet up with this technological man of mystery, you’re expecting tall, dark, and handsome Mr. Rico Suave in his Hawaiian tourist attire to be seated at the restaurant awaiting your arrival.  Until you show up and it’s a 5 foot 2 kid named Kaleb and he’s already eaten a seaweed salad because you were five minutes late and he’s a stickler for time management. He was only tan because that picture was taken on spring break and he was standing on a rock wall so he looked taller than his friends.

You’ve been duped.


You’re walking down the cereal aisle of the grocery store and you see a two-for-one deal on Frosted Flakes.  Do you need two boxes of overly-sugared breakfast treats? No.  But sale items make you think you’re getting a better deal, when you’re really just getting fatter. I hate you, sales.  I hate you with a fire of a thousand suns.  I go into the store thinking I need one avocado and a bag of chips and I walk out with four sweet potatoes, a Native American, and a Thanksgiving turkey in July because it was a festive presale.  I didn’t even have a coupon either!

Food Photography:

I think food is becoming a trend in my life.  We’ll get to that another time. There is nothing I love more than a lean cuisine.  I pick things specifically because of how the food looks on the box.  If I see broccoli practically jumping off the cardboard and into my mouth, I’m going to double down on those bad boys and take them home.  When I open the box and in the container is a sad, congealed cheesy mess of a meal, I have immediate food remorse.  The picture never adequately displays how the food looks.  It’s like going on a first date with make up and showing up the second time around barefaced and hungover.  Just not pretty.

I realized I just equated eating a grocery store frozen meal to dating.  This is why I am single.

Baby Carrots:

This one hurt the most.  I recently found out that baby carrots are just shaved down big carrots.  How insane is that?  That must be the only thing on the planet where the full sized version isn’t good enough to the point where they have to make a mini version of it to sell better.  Just trust your parents, kids, vegetables are good for you!  Wait, is that why pygmy goats exist? Can someone get me a confirmation on that?


You’re in the market for a new apartment.  You’re scouring the internet for a deal, and you come across this unbelieveable find.  Why is it still listed?  This can’t be real life!  The pictures look great, immaculate construction, clean, wood floors, and nicely decorated.  Until you show up and it’s a revamped bomb shelter from World War two and your room has three walls that consist of deluxe paper towel sheets and chicken wire.  Cozy!


Laugh tracks aren’t really people laughing at the jokes.  They are essentially telling the viewer when to laugh.  So does that mean sitcoms aren’t funny?  I don’t even know anymore.  I’m brainwashed by television and I’m not afraid to admit it.

Like I said, folks.  The world is full of trickery.  Keep your head on a swivel.  Keep your eyes on the prize.

I’m going to go investigate whether or not I actually have a lactose allergy or if my mom was just saying that to me so I wouldn’t eat ice cream.  I wouldn’t be surprised.  I’d plow through a carton of mint choco chip when I was a kid; she may have just been doing me a service.


You want to know if I hate my job?

It’s all in a day’s work.

If you are one of those people who springs up out of your sleep sack bursting with energy, excitement oozing out your eyeballs, ears and nose, beaming with unlimited joy because you’re just so elated to strut into work and get grinding, you are not a real person because no one is that happy.

On the contrary, if you are lucky enough to not absolutely abhor the idea of going into work, whether it be the office environment is awesome, you love the people, or you’ve found yourself in a career in which you are equally passionate and satisfied, that is amazing, and don’t take it for granted.

A lot of people hate their jobs.

Fortunately, I am not one of them. In the two scenarios I described above, I fall into the latter. Even though when I was growing up, my father repeatedly told me to avoid marketing and advertising, as he has been in the business for over twenty years, I stayed true to my stubborn and disobedient nature by doing the exact opposite of what he told me and was formally employed at a marketing agency starting in August of 2013.

I’ve either ignored or stubbornly brushed aside a lot of my father’s wisdom tidbits throughout the years, but one piece of advice I did accept rings true.  He has always urged me to constantly look for ways to better myself in my career and never settle.

For me, this is one of those aim high, shoot low situations.  Because while I’m ambitious, I realize the reality of me attaining my actual dream job is extremely unlikely, and here’s why:  

I don’t think my dream jobs are actually real jobs.

What I do know is that I am extremely qualified for these positions should they exist.  Also, if they do happen to exist, and on the small chance that a CEO of a company that has an opening for one of these positions may be reading this, the hope is that he or she will direct their mouse’s curser to the “Want To Give Me A Job?” tab and promptly fill out a contact form in order to offer me employment.

Like I said, aim high, shoot low.  I’ll stick with my day job for now.  But just in case, here is a list of jobs that I am extremely qualified to obtain, if only they existed in real life:

Onion Ring Connoisseur

If you don’t know by now, you should understand that one of my truest loves on planet Earth are the majestic side item this world likes to call onion rings. I just love them.  So much so that I make a point to try them at every restaurant and rate them.  Gotta have a great crispy outside, and a non stringy inside.  Not that difficult, but apparently very difficult because I’ve only found a handful of restaurants crack the top half of the 1-10 scale, so all you fine dining establishments better step up your game.  And maybe call up Dennys and ask what their secret is, because those rings are FLAMES.

Live Tweeter

This is a position that does actually exist, but I assume is extremely difficult to obtain.  There is nothing I love more than crushing a bottle of wine and making outlandish judgments about celebrities on award shows. Well, maybe puppies.  I do love puppies a lot.  If I could do that for monetary compensation, my endorphins would be so high through the roof I’d practically be metaphorically flying through the Twittersphere.

Dog Voice Creator

Ever wanted to know what your dog would sound like if it was a human? No problem, bring it on down to my apartment, I’ll take one good look at him or her, and promptly give you an accent that you can have 0% confidence in its accuracy.  It may not be correct, but it will give you the slightest smile when your dog is incessantly barking at that squirrel for you to think about him or her saying, “I want to go outside, Mom!” in a British accent with a monocle and a pipe.  Disclaimer: Golden Retrievers are always going to be surfers, it just makes sense.

Complaint Writer


UPDATE: still waiting to “receive something in the mail”

I have no problem writing long winded emails to large corporations citing my reasons for unhappiness.  If anyone had a problem and they couldn’t find the words to verbalize their dissatisfaction, I would totally love to be that person.  Case and point: this little letter I wrote to Chipotle about the time I missed their haiku contest and was unintentionally disqualified from winning the contest. (Inquire within to get help writing your complaints today!)

*** Really, I’d like to be an actual writer paid for my work.  But that just seems absurd.  So I’ll go on selling my soul to Elite Daily solely for exposure hoping that someone thinks I’m worthy somewhere down the line.

… So, anyone want to give me a job?




Remembering My First Love

I’m going to be real honest and break it down for a hot second.

I’ve had my fair share of crushes that didn’t quite pan out (I’m talking to you, Leo DeCaps) the way that I wanted.  But love is a completely different story.

I’ve been there, done that, moved on, and (almost) got over it.  But then again, the first cut is the deepest, right Sheryl Crow?  You go girl, sign it from the heart! Lance Armstrong sucks! (just kidding…?)

Anyways, since I’m somewhat of a scornful human being when it comes to broken hearts, I did a little research into the whole feeling of love and what it means. And what I found what shocking.

Turns out, I’m already in love.  Who knew?  I started reading about the 7 Ways Love Transforms Your Brain, and with each progressing number it became more and more clear.

I’m in love with food.

And it’s pretty bad.  I knew when the clock struck noon that I was hungry, but who knew it was hunger pangs tugging on my heart strings?

Don’t believe me?  Well, you should.  Because here are the 7 ways my brain has been transformed since I admitted my unrequited love for all things edible.

EDITOR'S NOTE: RED TEXT is website info, BLACK TEXT, much like my soul, are my own thoughts. 

1. You Feel Addicted

Ever hear that love is a drug? Well, there may be some truth to that. Your brain houses these intensely passionate feelings using the same system that’s activated when a person is addicted to drugs, from the euphoria you feel to your cravings for more. Sure, it might be a much healthier addiction — but let’s face facts, shall we? You’re an addict.

The only things I am positive I am addicted to are bacon, wine, and unlimited brunch buffets.  Call me a hopeless romantic, but I don’t think too much IHOP ever hurt anybody. I guess that encompasses most food entities.  Checkmark on the addiction aspect of food admiration.

2. You Start Thinking In Twos

It’s not just “me, me, me” anymore. Now, there’s two of you to think about — and your brain will automatically pick up the changes. The bond you share with your partner or children runs way deeper than just on the outside.

I can’t imagine a day going by without having more than one of anything that I eat.  Two bowls of cereal? Yes, please. A double dose of chips and salsa? Absolutely.  An extra side of bacon?  Do I even have to answer? I even cut my sandwiches in half just so I cognitively think there are two rather than one part to my lunch meal.

3. You Love Longer (And Become Wiser)

Falling in love is as good for your heart as it is for your mental health. People in love report higher levels of dopamine, which is linked to pleasure, desire and euphoria. Studies report that people in positive, healthy relationships live longer, are happier, wiser and have better mental health. 

You know what’s good for your heart?  Food.  You know why skinny people are so crazy?  They don’t eat enough. Has anyone ever felt worse after eating a heaping pile of huevos rancheros for breakfast? Don’t answer that.  I just know that after I eat a bacon cheese burger, I feel like I’m on top of the world. Endorphins to the moon and back baby.  That’s how I roll.

4. You’re More Supportive

One of the biggest benefits of falling in love is that you’ll learn what it’s really like to lean on (and support) another person. Building trust in a relationship is crucial. And, your brain helps you out with that. When we’re in love, we’re less likely to be critical or skeptical of the person we care about.

“Hey, let’s talk about this over a big plate of onion rings” is one of my favorite phrases. Food builds trust.  Food is trust. Learn it, live it, love it.  Support food, support me, support you.  It’s all in a days work.  Eat, support a pal, go home, sleep like a baby.

5. You De-Stress

Some of us might mistake those butterflies surrounding your first kiss — but there’s no way your brain will ever forget how it first felt to be touched by someone you’re in love with. 

You haven’t had butterflies until you’re waiting in your booth on pins and needles for a short stack of pancakes on a Sunday morning.  Your brain doesn’t ever forget something as crucial as a post-hangover meal.  Especially if it’s carb-o-loaded. You can quote me on that.

6. You Glow (Well, Your Brain’s Reward Centers Do!)

In a study that assessed couples “madly in love,” scientists found that the reward centers of their brains lit up after just looking at a picture of their spouse. Let the bright lines shine, baby!

Look at these pictures and tell me you are not immediately filled with glee.  I rest my case.

7. You Feel Safe

Similar to the first bonds babies make with their mothers, the feeling of security will emerge in your relationship. As you age and change, your body actually remembers the brain cycles and stages that you went through in your youth — so when you feel reconnected to your baby self, those feelings of safety and contentment will come flooding back. Research also shows that when we feel love for someone, it shuts down the part of our brain that controls fear and negative emotions.

Do I feel safe while I’m eating? Not particularly.  Do I feel safe after I’m done eating, and have a full range of motion as well as sharp utensils to thwart off any enemies? Abso-posi-tive-a-lutely. Forks and steak knives all day.

PS- I will be an Onion Ring Connoisseur before I die.